


As It Was

by swedishmafiafish



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (to an extent), Angst, Arcana - Freeform, Canon Compliant, Cerberus Assembly (Critical Role), Conflict, Diplomacy, Dunamis, Essek Thelyss-centric, History, LOTS OF SPOILERS, Luxon Beacons (Critical Role), M/M, Magic, Minor Astrid/Caleb Widogast, Politics, Pre-Canon, Religion, Research, Rexxentrum, Rosohna, Shadowgast, Soltryce Academy (Critical Role), Spoilers, War, Xhorhas (Critical Role), but it's within the canon timeline, dunamancy, scholarship, technically a boarding school AU, the spoilers are MAJOR and range from episode 18 to episode 97
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27752305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swedishmafiafish/pseuds/swedishmafiafish
Summary: The year is 818 Post-Divergence (17 years before the beginning of C2). The Kryn Dynasty has brokered a tentative alliance with the Cerberus Assembly to advance their research on the capabilities of dunamis, and Essek is forced to examine his desires and decisions by the advent of coming to care for a certain Zemnian wizard.HUGE Thank-you to CritRoleStats for their tireless work crafting compendiums of knowledge and synthesis. Much of my research comes from their immense collection.
Relationships: Astrid/Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss & Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	As It Was

**Author's Note:**

> I said it in the tags but I'll say it again just in case— this work contains major spoilers for events and discoveries from C2E18 to C2E97. That said, it's still technically an AU.
> 
> Pronunciations of non-canon names:  
> Illoara Diu'lr: (ill-O-Ah-ra dYOO-leer)  
> Zaek Murqol: (zEYE-ek mur-COAL)

White light glared off the polished stone of the cathedral floor, and reflected off the mithril chain adorning the Bright Queen’s dress as Essek entered to face her. The luminous sphere suspended in the middle of the chamber was as bright as he’d remembered it, if not brighter.

He’d been in the presence of their empress many times before, but during most of these, he’d merely accompanied Deirta on den business. It was the first time now that he faced the Umavi of Den Kryn alone. Two of her palace guard stood just behind his shoulders— one on either side— while he was led by another, who moved before him.

“My queen,” the guard preceding him started, once they had stopped. “I present Essek of Den Thelyss, as requested.” The individual stepped to the side to reveal his own form.

“Your eminence,” he acknowledged, lowering his feet gracefully onto the floor and bending forward at the waist in a polite bow.

“Welcome.” The queen’s voice immediately filled the chamber. It would have caught Essek off-guard, if he’d had it in him to be ‘off-guard.’ It was difficult, he reasoned, to find oneself relaxed or distracted when, during a session of independent study, the queen’s personal guards enter with summons and escort one to her cathedral. “I trust my summons find you in good health.” The stone beneath his feet vibrated with her vitality.

“Yes, your eminence. Thank you.”

“Lovely to hear.” She rose from her crystal throne, gazing down at him. “I won’t keep you long. The reason I’ve brought you here is because your proclivity for the study of dunamis has not gone unnoticed. Deirta has much to be proud of.” The mention of his study surprised him a moment, though his expression remained neutral. She continued. “Some members of my staff have brokered an allegiance with the Cerberus Assembly and its auxiliary institution, the Soltryce Academy, in Rexxentrum. You’ll study alongside Master Trent Ikithon’s cohort of talented young mages not unlike yourself. I am told the students are young humans, but while under Ikithon’s tutelage, they will have much to offer in facilitating arcane research and experimentation. Your own tutors have spoken highly of your potential, and therefore I expect only the best from our alliance with the Assembly. You’ll be required to report to a contact within our own arcane conservatory on a bi-weekly basis. This contact is yet to be determined, but will aid in the guidance of your research while in Rexxentrum. Taskhand Adeen Tasithar will accompany you during this assignment to ensure your safety.”

Words escaped him. He was meant to do… what?

“Does this displease you?” A tentative vexation edged her voice, prompting him to recover his own. 

“Of course not. It is a great honor to serve you in such a way.”

“Good. You’ll depart in five days. Within that time, your contact will be assigned, and that individual will brief you on the intricacies and precedents of your assignment. I dismiss you, then. My guard will see you out, and once assigned, your contact will meet you at your family’s wing.”

The three armored individuals snapped to their positions around him once more, and waited for his bow to the Bright Queen as a signal to begin walking him out of the cathedral.

He didn’t dare let his thoughts wander until after they were well past clear of the throne room. It wasn’t likely someone would attempt to intrude, but it was never impossible. Rexxentrum? The Dwendalian Empire?

His escort ended just outside the entrance to the wing of the Lucid Bastion within which Den Thelyss had its residence. As the son of the Umavi of Den Thelyss, Essek was generally able to move freely within the building, but for royal summons, an escort was customary. Once delivered, and without stopping their movement, the guards disbanded and went their separate ways. He returned to his study, and to what anyone else would consider a mess of tomes, all held open to specific pages, with notes outlining spell components and properties scrawled in a few of his many, many notebooks. Most of them gifts, as none of them were ever empty for long. Even suspended inches above the ground in levitation, his limbs felt heavy, and awkward within the confines of a room which, until today, had been so implicitly his. The study had been delegated to his research since the untimely disappearance of his father years ago, and since then, he’d felt a sense of certainty and ease with its walls of tinted stone lined invariably with book after book, its ornate rug— spread across the floor to dampen unwanted noise— and the desks of dark wood which had not been without paper since he’d first begun working there. And in just five days’ time, it would be lost to him.

With his removal, it was likely the study would pass to Verin, his younger brother. Verin was not half the scholar Essek was, but he was expected to excel in his studies all the same. The two shared tutors, but took their lessons separately due to their difference in experience and skill. Their tutors reported to Deirta, who then reported to the Bright Queen. He’d inquired about the reasons for such reporting, but was told only that Leylas was interested in keeping a close eye on the abilities of her future staff. As a member of one of the three most prominent dens, a career in the Bright Queen’s court was prescribed. It made more sense that she would watch for promise in those born to such paths to find suitable diplomats and emissaries for her political and economic machinations.

Essek dropped back into his chair and pulled one of his bound notebooks back toward himself. With a quill pen, he began to catalogue the names of each tome current to his study and the important section or sections with their location in the books. Perhaps he could find copies of the books in the library at the Soltryce Academy, or would have leave to bring his current materials along. Once finished with that task, he resumed poring over the thick volume he’d dusted off months ago which detailed the known history of the Umbra Gates above Bazzoxan.

***

Some time later, Essek was summoned to Deirta’s intimate dining chamber for their daily shared meal. When he arrived, Deirta was established at the head of the table, as always. She stood behind her chair, however, as was custom for them. Verin was still absent, so upon approaching their table, Essek stood behind his own chair past the corner of the table to Deirta’s right and bowed his head in greeting to his mother. The room was silent. Essek and Verin took turns in their tardiness to the family meal, each at least once a month. It was easier for Essek to be punctual, however, because he spent most of his time alone in the study, while Verin would often venture outside the Lucid Bastion, to train in combat with Leylas Kryn’s soldiers. Servants stood close to the room’s exits, standing by for orders or the meal’s commencement.

Verin entered two and a half minutes later with an apologetic bow, much deeper than Essek’s. He took his place across the table from Essek, and Deirta raised her hands, signaling the servants to seat them. The meal was a dish of rice laden with thick-sliced fungus stalks and roasted sagittaria root from the Shadowshire, accompanied by braised venison in a wine and berry sauce. Their meal was taken in relative silence, until Deirta paused over a sip of wine.

“Verin, you were late.”

“My apologies.”

“What kept you?” To an outside observer, her tone would have sounded interrogative, but Essek was used to the way his mother liked to keep tabs on Verin and himself. 

“The Bright Queen’s commanders are thorough.” He picked up his napkin, and dabbed the corner of his mouth. “They require a soldier to finish a training exercise once one is initiated.” Verin had a talent for drawing attention in harmless directions, but for years of knowing him, Essek was sure he was avoiding talking directly about the fact that the combat training had undoubtedly removed him from his scholarly work.

Both Verin and Deirta seemed uninterested in the argument which would result from furthering that conversation, though, so instead, talk was paused again for the time being. It was a number of minutes before she started again, this time addressing him.

“Essek.” Her voice was commanding, but not near as regal and poignant as that of Leylas Kryn. He looked up from his dish, placed his utensils down, and folded his hands in his lap. “I was informed of your meeting with the Bright Queen today.”

It would have surprised him more if she had not been aware. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Verin stop eating as well, furrowing his brow, and subtly attempting to catch Essek’s eye. He knew he wasn’t required to tell her anything. Leylas valued the input of her fellow den leaders, and she would not summon a member of a den as young as he was without first consulting its leader. “I am grateful for the opportunity to serve our country and advance our understanding of the forces at our disposal,” he responded. He’d rehearsed for this moment.

Communication within Den Thelyss was not necessarily secretive. There was an expectation of openness for all but extremely sensitive matters. In their upbringing, Deirta never tried to soften any news or protect them from any information, and she certainly never exemplified overtly emotional reactions. Every moment of his life so far had been training. He didn’t resent it, and in fact most days he was grateful for it.

“Will you be ready for your departure at the end of this week?” These were some of the details he knew Deirta would treat as common knowledge, though Verin looked directly across the table at Essek, trying to formulate an explanation.

“Will I be permitted to have my materials transported?”

“You are to allow space in your trunk for nine books, selected by the archivists at the Conservatory. If you think that their choices are insufficient, you may carry out those negotiations with them.” So that answered that. None of his books were terribly special, but his own copy of the historical text on Bazzoxan held some notes recovered by the team which had accompanied his father there.

“Very well.” Perhaps the book would be recommended, and he could mention he had a copy already in his possession.

He met Verin’s gaze for only a second before he picked up his utensils and continued eating.

***

After their meal, Essek found himself back in his study. He was to leave in five days, so it was best to begin preparing at once. He would spend the next few days gathering his belongings and making arrangements. If he had time for any reading, he would do so within the Conservatory, after checking in with the archivists. It was difficult to guess at a timeline for these decisions to be made, but he would have to trust that everything would fall into place. He retrieved a roll of twine from his desk drawer and began binding his notebooks for travel.

“Deirta told me I should ask you what she was speaking of if I had questions.”

Essek heard Verin before he saw him. Though he was talented at verbal diversion, he was not as talented in social subtleties. His younger brother was well-spoken and respectful almost to a fault, but he had inherited their mother’s deadpan verbiage. Essek turned his body toward the doorway, though he continued tying his notes together.

“I will be relocating my studies to the Soltryce Academy within the Dwendalian Empire. There is an instructor there who has recently chosen a group of students with whom I’m to experiment with dunamis and its capabilities.” He looked up, searching Verin’s expression.

“I see.” With many people, it was easy for Essek to gauge their thoughts or reactions. It seemed to him a sort of coping mechanism Verin had learned after what happened to their father, but he was difficult to read. It was likely that others had the same experience with himself, though he was better able to charm others with his social presence. “Are you afforded leave for visitation?”

Though Verin’s tone was detached, the question he asked had an implication of emotionality to it. Truthfully, Essek wondered the same thing. The Dwendalians could not be more unlike their Xhorhasian neighbors. They practiced different religions, structured their government and education differently, celebrated different dates for different reasons. Their days, family units, lifespans, and appearances were much different. It struck him then, that he could not count on their veil of darkness, and would have to find other ways of avoiding the sun’s energy-draining effects.

“I’ll ask my contact, once one is assigned.” Essek placed the stack of notes down on the desk beside him, and drew up the tower of books to file back into place on the shelves. He crossed to the back of the room.

Verin stood still, silently watching as Essek scoured the shelves for each tome’s rightful place, then returned to tidy the surfaces which had held his work. “Essek— is this what you want?”

The inquiry gave him pause. Earlier, he’d given thought to the loss of this room, which his acquisition of had been relatively recent. Was that the only thing he would miss? He had no friends to speak of, and no important connections aside from those which this appointment would strengthen. This was his first chance to travel, to experience novelty, and to prove his worth as a scholar and diplomat. It was a disruption of the routine he’d fallen into, but it was also intriguing. He could finally encounter new ideas for the manipulation and applications of dunamis. It was a favorable assignment.

“Yes.”

“I know what it is,” he continued, each deliberate word hitting the air like the drip of a persistent leak upon stone. “To abide with expectations out of necessity and obedience.”

His thoughts went to a vision of Verin sitting in the chair next to him, hunched over the desk, lethargic and dull-faced, with all manner of ledgers and histories stacked to his left. He then thought of Verin brimming with exuberance on the drilling field, a weapon in his hand and his form encased in leather and steel. Based on how he spent his time, one was much more preferable than the other.

Essek gathered his notes in his arm, pushing the drawers closed, and taking a final glance around for the time being. He approached Verin, and gingerly placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We will both prove our use to the Bright Queen in time.”

After the passage of a moment, he brushed past Verin, traced a sigil in the air, and the heavy door to the empty study swung closed.

He arrived a minute later in his personal room to find that a large trunk had been brought in by one of Deirta’s servants. It sat open, empty, upon his bed— which was, in its volume, mainly ornamental, but he would worry about organizing his things in the coming days. He dropped his notes into the trunk and placed it on the floor, before changing into a nightshirt and a long, cobalt silk banyan. Once in appropriate attire, he climbed onto the bed and crossed his legs. It was then that he arranged his body for meditation: straightened his back, lifted his chest, and relaxed his shoulders. He raised his chin only slightly, and dropped his hands delicately into his lap, imagining the gentle tautness of a held thread through the center of his being to keep him upright, as he did every time this part of his routine came about. He set his vision straight before him, and the image of his surroundings blurred and gave way to the reverie.

During this period of their near-eternal night, Essek’s mind conjured mainly scenes from his memory, but often the memories were interspersed with abstract symbology, since he had no previous life upon this plane to recall. At least, that was what he’d been told when, a few years ago, he’d asked his tutor about the strange visions which sometimes broke into his memories. It was hard to remember exactly when the veil of his recollection had been drawn over the things he used to experience during the reverie. But he could tell that these were different. Since the inception of these mirages, he had seen true, ceaseless, unending vastness. The first time, it provoked a dreading fear in the deepest recesses of his being. He saw the pallor of formless divinity, the rapid oscillation of misty, grey shapes. He experienced light not unlike the sun on their days of devotion; taxing to simply exist in its proximity, and with an aura more powerful than any living being could know. He found himself entrenched in creeping darkness, held fast by the appendages of an ancient thing. A darkness so penetrating, it drunk of his vision, rendering him blinded within his own mind.

It should have scared him. That fear that defied gravity, defied definition, stowed away on a force of utter curiosity, overwhelming in its burgeoning; a tangible inertia. It drew him to the center of something monumental, and these were only the wanton fringes.

When Essek woke, his eyes were more tired than they had been prior to his meditation. Such was the curse of his combination of recently reaching adulthood with his inaugural planar existence.

He dressed and briefly dipped into the dining chamber, flagged down a servant, and requested a cup of well-oxidized oolong tea be brought to his room, then set to work selecting and securing his most impressive garments, consisting mainly of ornately embroidered and brocaded robes, and painted linen and silk tunics and trousers. A separate, smaller case had also been delivered for his ear adornments and ornamental belts and chain. Following which, he made his way out of the Lucid Bastion and to the Firmaments, arriving in the Marble Tomes Conservatory. He nodded to the Aurora Guard stationed outside as he crossed the massive marble threshold and headed to the desk, but was intercepted before the individual at the desk could offer her services.

“Thelyss?” A young drow with bright eyes approached. He had seen them mostly in passing here before. “Are you perchance here to discuss materials for your scholarly appointment in Rexxentrum?”

He peered curiously at them. “I am. Are you a part of the archivist team assigning my texts?”

“Well— no, but I was asked to keep an eye out for your arrival. Told that you’d be coming here this week. Archivist Illoara said to bring you to her.” They gestured toward an offshoot of the hallway which led to a spiral staircase of stone. At the bottom, the cylinder containing these stairs opened to a long hall illuminated by floating globes of soft green light in braziers which lined the walls. It was a nice touch, to keep the vestigial appliances in use without the risk of flammability of a mundane torch.

Another fellow drow, this one a woman, and taller, with sleek pale hair wrapped in two charcoal-colored ribbons tapped the mostly orcish fellow beside her. His black hair was plaited neatly but intricately, and piled together atop his head. Both were dressed in layered white and violet robes.

“Thank you, Yun.” His escort bowed, and left. The woman held out her hand, gesturing for Essek to advance. “I am Archivist Illoara Diu’lr. This is Curator Zaek Murqol.” Her companion nodded at the mention of his name. Essek slowly floated forward and dipped his head as a sign of respect. Zaek’s expression showed confusion as he tried to subtly discern why Essek’s steps had made no sound. 

“You seem to be aware of my identity, but for the sake of introductions, I am Essek of Den Thelyss. What do you have for me?”

Zaek spoke up. “On the subject of dunamis, as you likely know, our best sources of information are the firsthand accounts of those who discovered the Luxon beacons, and brought them here to Rosohna. We’ve been made aware of your limit, so we’ve taken it upon ourselves to copy the journals into a compendium which you’ll take with you. That project should be completed within the next two days. In this collection, we also have three religious texts delineating our knowledge of the Luxon and its power, as well as the functionality of the beacons, and the arcane ability granted to us by its sacrifice and generosity.”

“I’ve contacted other mages within the city who have reported working with dunamis,” Illoara cut in, “and the few whose findings have been substantial have agreed to furnish copies of their analyses to us. We will combine those into what will serve as your fifth book.”

Essek nodded, turning his gaze to look upon the religious texts Zaek had placed down. He’d read one and most of another, but it was difficult for those topics to keep his interest. Maybe in reading them again, he would find something that had not been apparent to him before. He looked forward to the notes of the mages currently exploring dunamancy, as his work had been highly solitary.

“We have some room for your input, since you’ve come so early. Are there any topics or books in your collection you believe would prove fruitful?” Illoara turned back to scan the engraved labels on each shelf.

“There is one that comes to mind. I must admit, it has a bit of sentimental value to me.” His “confession” was feigned, but he knew it would make requesting to bring a document about the worship of the Betrayer Gods less suspicious. “My father disappeared in the ruins at Bazzoxan, but his history of the temple that stood there, behind the Umbra Gates, was returned to me by a fellow soldier. Purely archaeological and historical. I’ve been working my way through it, but I’d like to continue, if permissible.”

“We would need to examine the tome,” said Zaek. “But it seems to fit within the vein of those we’ve selected so far. Once we’re done here, you should have the book brought to me. I assume you’re occupied with your arrangements. As are we, so the sooner we look through it, the better.”

Illoara pulled a thick book off the shelf and handed it to Zaek. Essek caught only part of the title, but it seemed to be a volume of an encyclopedia written on the history of Xhorhas and its role in the Calamity and the Divergence. Of all the books he’d studied from, that had to be the most intimidating. Zaek took note of the title, placed it behind the other books, and muttered, “Mm, good thinking,” in response.

“Oh, before you leave,” Illoara started, “I have the honor to be your consultant within the Conservatory. I was supposed to meet you in the Lucid Bastion, but since you’re already here, I assume you have some questions to ask me.”


End file.
